That Fateful Night
by Romione4Life
Summary: A short one-shot about the night when James and Lily Potter died... with a twist. Rated T to be safe for violence.


**Disclaimer: I must not tell lies! I'm not J.K. Rowling, and I do not own any part of Harry Potter.**

It was getting late, but the baby boy wasn't showing any signs of sleepiness. He sat on his mother's lap, and the two of them read a picture book together. The boy giggled happily as he looked at the moving illustrations.

"Oh, look, Harry," the mother said softly. "Look at the pretty phoenix!" She pointed at the majestic bird, and the baby stared in fascination.

Then, a yell of terror from another room shattered the near-silence. "Lily!" a male voice shouted. "Take Harry and go, it's him!"

"How…" the woman breathed. She snatched up the baby and stood up, letting the book fall to the floor. "James!" she called.

"Just go!" the man beseeched her again. "I'll try and hold him off, you need to hide!"

The mother fled upstairs to the baby's room. She placed the boy in his crib and began to pile random objects against the door frantically.

A cry of pain pierced the air. The woman knelt beside her child's crib, tears beginning to stream down her face.

"Harry," she whispered. "Be brave. Be strong. I promise you'll be safe."

The boy's green eyes, so like her own, stared back at her from behind the bars of the crib. The mother slipped her fingers through the gaps and clasped his tiny hand.

One more cry from downstairs, a bang, and then… nothing. The woman's heart was pounding. She knew what must have happened – and what would be coming next.

A cloaked figure was stealthily making its way up the stairs. It approached a door and turned the knob. The door wouldn't open. A smile played across the figure's lips. Surely the woman must know her attempts to keep him out were futile.

He pointed a long, thin wooden stick at the door, and it blasted open, scattering debris everywhere. The woman whirled around to face him, her eyes wide with fear.

"Don't touch Harry!" she screamed.

The cloaked figure laughed. "Step aside," he commanded in a high, chilling voice. The woman didn't budge.

"Step aside!" the figure repeated. "Your husband is already dead. I won't hesitate to kill you as well."

"I'd rather I die than my son!" the woman said.

"They never learn," the figure sighed. He raised a pale hand and pointed the stick at the woman. "You could have saved yourself. Instead, you will both die."

The woman glared defiantly at the figure as he spoke the words "_Avada Kedavra!_" There was a flash of green light, and the next moment, the woman lay dead upon the floor.

The figure turned to the baby next. The boy had been watching with confusion, unsure what was going on.

"At last," the figure murmured. "The moment has arrived! From now on, none shall threaten the power of Lord Voldemort!"

He lifted the stick once more and aimed at the child. Again, he said, "_Avada Kedavra!_"

The jet of green light flew towards the boy. But then, it seemed to ricochet off him and zoom back towards the figure, hitting him squarely in the chest.

A howl of agony filled the room. The boy's head seemed to explode and burn as if he were on fire. He couldn't see. When his vision finally cleared, the figure was gone.

Footsteps pounded up the stairs. A man who bore a striking resemblance to the boy in the crib entered the room.

Instantly the man knew something was wrong. His gaze passed over the woman's body on the floor and came to rest on the boy, who had started to cry.

What had happened? Why was the boy still alive? And where was his master, the Dark Lord?

The plan had failed. He had to seek out the Dark Lord and figure out what was going on.

"I will find you, my lord," James Potter vowed, ignoring the sobbing baby. "I will find you and restore you to your glory."

**Note: I have nothing against James Potter, nor do I believe he was a Death Eater/Voldemort supporter, I just randomly got this idea and thought it would be interesting to write. Is it unrealistic? Probably. Do I care? Not really. That's the beauty of FANFICTION!**


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